Stockholm
by navigated
Summary: "A paradoxical psychological phenomenon wherein hostages express empathy and have positive feelings towards their captors." \10051\


Shouichi liked to consider himself worldly, while he hadn't done a good deal of traveling, nor did he know many people, he hadn't done much of anything but stay in Japan where it was safe.

He did read a lot.

Maybe it wasn't the same, but it was all he needed. It certainly got him into a position of good graces in the Melone base. It certainly got him a position as leader of White Spell's 2nd Squad. The job wasn't ideal, nor was it something he could honestly condone. But somewhere a long the line, something went wrong.

Only 27% of all hostage situations end in a psychological state known as Stockholm Syndrome. Shouichi didn't even know he was a hostage. But he couldn't leave, he was at the beck and call and total mercy of Byakuran. Nothing he did was unseen by his amiable overlord. It might not have been the abusive scenario Shouichi had come to expect from all of the mafia movies he had seen as a child, but when it came down to it, there was no difference. Despite the illusion of free will, Shouichi was helpless amongst the Millefiore. He was a tool to Byakuran just like everyone else.

He knew, somewhere, that what Byakuran was doing was wrong, he had seen the ruin this man was set to bring upon the world, and he knew it was wrong. Knew with every fiber of his being that he needed to be stopped, but he couldn't stop himself. He knew he could throw a wrench in the works, he knew that somewhere he could mess up on purpose, in a way that Byakuran could never catch him. But he never did. Never did because he never wanted to let Byakuran down. Somewhere along the line, that bubbling hatred and disdain he had for this monster of a man, turned into admiration and blind devotion.

Shouichi had hardly been shown understanding and compassion as a child, he was the kid with the thick glasses that got beat up to do other kids homework. It was his lot in life, somewhere Byakuran came into his life. Who smiled genuinely and listened to every word Shouichi had to say – sure, it was all for show, it was all to get what he needed from Shouichi, but he had turned a blind eye to it, because he wanted that sense of importance. Simply that condescending pat on the back with the cooing "Well done Shou-chan~" was the greatest praise he could have ever received and it made him sick. Sick that he needed that validation from a man so twisted.

Validation was all he wanted, all he wanted was that pat on the back, all he wanted was that insincere simile and to have him leave like he always did. He didn't want this. His face was buried in his hands, leaning back in his desk chair trying to remember how to breathe correctly with Byakuran's cold fingers wrapped around his cock.

"You've done so well Shou-chan~" he cooed, a cold thumb circling the head.

Shouichi tried thinking how they got in this position, he couldn't remember, it probably didn't matter, it was probably going to happen no matter what he said or did. Byakuran did what he pleased, even at others expense.

"So very well, better than I could have ever hoped~" his breath was hot, too hot. Shouichi could die. He peered through his fingers, Byakuran half stooped under his desk, one hand circling his cock, lazily running his fingers up its length, the free hand tracing circles on his thigh. Shouichi screwed his eyes closed again, his glasses were fogging up in his hands, knocked askew by the need to hide himself from what was happening to him.

"Now now Shou-chan, don't be shy." Came his voice again, it was getting hard to swallow, he'd forgotten how to breathe again, "You like me, don't you Shou-chan? I want you to see." Shouichi could hear the smile in his voice, he didn't need to look, he didn't need to see his slim fingers running down his cock, squeezing and pulling, didn't need to see his lips curled into a sneer as he placed his lips to the head of his cock. He didn't need to see it, his mind's eyes was giving him more than enough visual aid.

"S-stop." Was all he could squeak out between his fingers he could hear the dull music pumping from his headphones around his neck over the ringing in his ears. He wanted to hear that, not Byakuran's voice from between his legs.

"Maaa~ Shou-chan you don't mean that." He didn't. He didn't mean it. He thought he would feel better if he stopped him, if he made his position clear that he did not enjoy this and that he felt entirely violated. Liars go to hell. "Shou-chan you're going to make me cry." He purred again, his fingers wrapped painfully tight now "And when I cry, Shou-chan, the world cries."

He didn't doubt it, Shouichi certainly wanted to cry, but he lowered his hands from his face, uncertain what to do with them, instead balling them in his hair, trying not to tear it out at the roots, trying not to lose his mind. Did he install the circuit breaker? Had he filed his paper work? Byakuran was still between his legs. Had he checked that the ground wire had been disconnected so Spanner didn't burn himself again? Had he-

Byakuran's nails dug into his bare thigh. "Shou-chan you're not paying attention. Do I bore you Shou-chan?~" Shouichi shook his head frantically. Apparently satisfied with this, Byakuran returned to his previous ministrations, hand rolling lazily over the head of Shouichi's painfully hard cock, a look of slightly amusement playing on his lips as though this was just another day at the office (Shouichi wouldn't have been surprised if he had the presence of mind to think). And with a satisfied chuckle (and a lurch in the pit Shouichi's stomach) Byakuran ran his pointed tongue over the length of him.

Byakuran's mouth was hot in comparison to the cold hands wrapped around him, the slow torturous pace at which his tongue curled around the head, sliding down his shaft, it took everything in him not to give into the twitching in his hips. Byakuran was humming to himself, as though amused by it all – which he certainly was, watching Shouichi nearly at the verge of tears unable to tear his eyes away and deafened by the beating of his heart in his ears.

He couldn't look away, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Byakuran's face, dark lashes standing out against his skin as he took Shouichi in further, the look of horror, somewhere, had turned into that of adoration. He felt sick to his stomach, maybe it was just the heat pooling there that made him feel sick, maybe it was the realization that he wasn't nearly as horrified as he should have been. His hands loosened in his hair, uncertain where they should go, hips twitching awkwardly, unable to find some sort of steady rhythm.

He wanted to touch him. Wanted to hold his cold face in his hands, and make him look at him, wanted to feel like this wasn't some sort of condescending reward to watch Shouichi squirm. He wanted this to mean something. Shouichi's hand landed softly in Byakuran's hair, not to push him onward, not to take control of the soft lapping at his cock, but simply to touch him. It was hesitant and scared, hands shaking out of nerves and sensory overload.

Byakuran looked up as Shouichi touched him, chuckling slightly as he opened his eyes, staring straight into Shouichi's. It was at that moment his hands fisted in Byakuran's hair, as though somehow violet eyes had entirely wrecked him, as he came into Byakuran's hand.

Byakuran stood, cleaning his hand with that same pointed tongue, his free hand patting Shouichi on the head.

"Maa maa, Shou-chan. You did so well."


End file.
